The Longest Night
by C.V. Atwood
Summary: Emma and Killian are pregnant with their first child when they learn some devastating news.


_Ectopic._

The word flooded every crevice of Emma's mind, drowning all other thoughts in inky darkness. She knew she hadn't been feeling well, the cramps had been overwhelming, and her entire body ached fiercely. It was as if ever scar and every wound from her many battles had come to rest upon her at once. She'd spent more mornings than she cared to admit white-knuckled against the toilet, too exhausted to continue vomiting and too dizzy to make it back the bed. Killian was worried. That was why she'd promised to call the doctor in the first place, to satiate her fretting pirate. He had never dealt with a pregnancy before. Emma had, and she was certain this was all a simple case of severe morning sickness.

Until this morning.

Killian was already gone when she awoke, her body straining to turn under the covers. The severity of her pregnancy had forced her to stay home weeks ago, and Killian had been all too ready to fill her spot at her father's side. It had been a year since Storybrooke's last villain, but the edge of constant danger still lingered, and no one wanted to leave their town unprotected.

It had taken Emma twenty minutes to maneuver herself out of the bed, and even longer to finish her shower. It used to be that the hot water brought her some relief, loosening her battle-worn muscles and clearing whatever fog had developed in her nightly dreams. But today it left her exhausted. She hadn't even bothered getting dressed before dragging herself back into the bedroom. That's when she saw the blood.

It stood bright red, a perfect circle against stark white sheets. Emma shuddered, and turned her head to look at the nightgown she'd shed into the corner. She hadn't even paid attention as she'd struggled to get them off, but now, as she stared, it was obvious they too had been marred by the evening's discharge. A frown spread across her face, as much concern as confusion. Had her period come? But that wasn't possible. She was pregnant and that was one of the few benefits.

And then another cramp came. Emma braced herself against the door-frame, ice filling her veins and whisking away the heat of her shower. Was it normal to bleed with severe morning sickness or was this was something different? Her hands shook as she reached onto the dresser and pulled her cellphone into her hands. She hesitated, her finger hovering over Killian's speed dial before opening up her browser and looking up Doctor Whale's number. There was no need to get Killian worked up when it could turn out to be nothing.

How Emma regretted her decision now.

Storybrooke was growing dark and as she sat at their kitchen table in silence, Emma felt like a child—afraid. It had only taken a few scans to reveal the horrible truth. There would be no baby. Somehow things had gone wrong. The egg that was meant to be their child hadn't attached where it was supposed to, and it would be impossible to carry the baby to term. In fact, Emma had to make the decision then and there. Her tubes hadn't ruptured yet, but it was only a matter of time. Doctor Whale had been insistent, she needed an injection and she needed it soon.

And then their baby would disappear.

The medicine would stop her pregnancy, keep the cells from growing and multiplying. And then her body would simply reabsorb the egg. It would be as if she'd never been pregnant.

Physically.

Just physically.

Emotionally, Emma knew she couldn't pretend this child never existed, and the thought of Killian finding out left her numb.

She pressed her eyes shut and took a deep shuddering breath as headlights flashed through the window. Killian. She'd told herself there would be no tears, but she could already feel the wetness against her lashes. Keys shook in the doorway and one drop after another burned down her cheeks.

"Swan! Swan?" Killian's voice moved from happiness to concern in an instant as he rounded the door.

Emma blinked rapidly, unable to look up as his arms swallowed her. She thought his touch would take away the fear, but it only intensified.

"Swan, what is wrong? Love, tell me what's happened." He pressed his chin onto her head.

She couldn't speak. Every time she opened her mouth it was as if all the air had been sucked from her body. She was suffocating in her grief and it broke her heart to think he'd soon be in the same state.

The ruffling of papers sent a wave of panic coursing through her. Obviously, he'd seen the paperwork on the table, the diagnosis, a copy of her appointment for tomorrow. The hand that had been brushing against her hair slowed and then stopped as he processed each word.

"Emma, love," his voice cracked, "does this mean what I think it does? Our baby?"

Emma couldn't respond, but the pronounced shudder of her body gave him all the confirmation he needed. His hand pulled away from her hair and a long silence fell between them, punctuated only by Emma's sobs. Killian wasn't moving. It was as if time had stood still for him, and she couldn't take it anymore. He needed to scream or cry. She needed to hear the emotions that were consuming her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what? It isn't your fault, Emma." His voice was strained, gruff. "These papers say you could have died. It is good it was caught now."

The way he said _it_ stung.

"It is our child, was our child."

The bitterness in her voice seemed to snap something in him, and Killian crossed the room back toward her. "That isn't what I meant, Swan." He knelt, pressing his head to her belly. "This is still our child. Your appointment isn't until tomorrow. This is still our child."

A small smile crept onto her face, the first since this morning. Emma felt torn between the love for her husband and the permeating sadness of the situation. The way his body tensed against her made it clear he was fighting to be strong for her. "Thank you, Killian."

"Of course, love. Just tell me what you need."

Emma leant forward, burying her face in his hair, and pressed his head as far into her belly as possible. He'd never get to see his first child, but she needed to believe he felt them. "Please don't let me fall asleep. I don't want to lose this night."

Killian tightened his hands around her waist. "As you wish, love. As you wish."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for the read, and sorry for the downer. This just popped into my head and I had to get it out. I'd really appreciate if you took a moment to drop a review, and if you really connected with this, please check out my blog where I am consolidating all my writing from my different accounts and platforms. The link is on my profile.**


End file.
